


Therapy

by soodohnimh



Category: Dexter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 06:55:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soodohnimh/pseuds/soodohnimh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Dexter didn't leave during their therapy session.  Also posted on FFN.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Therapy

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Dexter and I am making no money or profit from this story. Thanks to 'C' for planting this idea in my head and pushing me. This is smut and it takes place almost immediately at the beginning of 8X05. Thank you for reading.

 

Therapy

 

They sat in front of me, not looking at each other and not looking at me either. Both of them were willing enough to come to therapy, yet not willing enough to engage me or each other. Debra sat with her hands between her knees, her feet not flat on the ground, but with her heels propped up on the leg of my expensive chair. Her body language was closed off. Contrite. Embarrassed. Submissive. Dexter, with his head in his hand, looked particularly petulant. He rolled his eyes like his son would have. I can't blame him though. This type of open communication was not his strong suit. And it shouldn't be. I've told him a number of times that he is perfect the way he is, such a magnificent result of his father's and my work. 

I attempted to tell him in a way that he can understand that Debra hit rock-bottom and that she was on her way back to herself and to him. 

He turned to her with resentment and sarcasm in his eyes. "Great. I'm so fuckin' happy for you."

"Dexter…" we said in unison, Deb's voice pleading, my words more corrective. While he was still a man, he was acting out. If he had to have Debra in his life, we needed to make this work. I don't believe that Dexter will ever be in a place where just wanting Debra in his life will be enough. His progress on this front seems to have stagnated. There's nothing more to be done about it. She seemed to be a need for him, as much as his drive to kill. 

"No." he looked at me, "This family therapy is bullshit. This," he gestured with his hand back and forth between Debra and him, "is not a normal family. We never have been."

He turned to Debra. "How could you do this now? I told you to kill me when we were in the shipping container and you didn't. What am I supposed to think here? I don't understand!" He moved to sit at the edge of his chair, becoming more agitated.

I interjected. "Dexter, calm down. We know that you're angry. We need to talk this through in order for you to find understanding of what happened to Debra…" I could tell he was becoming agitated and frustrated. Frustration and psychopaths did not mix. 

"What happened to Deb?? Deb made a choice. I didn't ask her to kill LaGuerta. She made that choice and she needs to take responsibility for that."

"I am responsible." Deb said. "I am guilty and I'm sorry that I tried to kill us. I can see now that it wasn't the best choice…"

"The best choice? The logical fucking choice? Just last week, you told me that you were still in…"

"Dexter!" Deb cut him off, stood up, and shifted her eyes to me. Well, what was this? Were there still secrets the two of them were keeping that neither had shared during our talks or therapy sessions.

"Oh for fuck's sake Deb, doesn't she know?" he said. She looked at him with pleading eyes. 

"Know what?" I asked, and looked between them.

"Christ…" he mumbled. Dexter stood and took Debra by the arm and marched her into the next room. I stood up and started to stop them and Dexter cut me off, "Just give us a minute…" I gave him a curious and worried look. "I'm not going to hurt her, if that's what you're thinking." He certainly could have killed us both before the first of us hit the floor if he wanted to. Still, I worried for her. I hadn't had a patient kill or be killed in my home before. 

He ushered Debra inside the next room and slammed the door to the office. I took my cup of earl grey and listened to the muffled sounds of them shouting at each other. Mostly Dexter shouting. Then it became very quiet. This wasn't how I intended for this therapy session to progress, but as Dexter said, this family wasn't normal. 

*************************

Her arm seemed thin, but her biceps were hard under my hands as I forced her into Vogel's living room and closed the door. She wrenched her arm from me and tried to step away, but I advanced on her, pushing her up against the wall. I didn't touch her or hold her to the wall, but I wasn't letting her move or get away from me. We were inches apart and she was breathing heavily. But she wouldn't look me in the eyes. Her eyes were darting from my face, then behind me, and around the room. I think she was looking for an exit.

"Dex, I know you're mad. Christ, I've never seen you like this." She started glancing at my lips while I ranted at her. 

"What the fuck, Deb? I know you blame me for pushing you into killing LaGuerta, which I didn't, and you blame me for Dad overdosing, which I didn't want either, and you blame me not being who you thought I was. Jesus, I'm not perfect." 

"I don't expect you to be perfect, Dexter." She nervously tried to sidestep away from me and I mirrored her, keeping her right where I wanted her. "I know you're not fucking perfect; you are what you are, after all. When I watched Vogel's recording, Dad said he couldn't live with himself. When you said what you said, I felt the same as he did. 

I stepped back to give her a little room. I unconsciously licked my lips and saw the faintest change in her mouth. Her lips parted at that and she started breathing through her mouth. "I can't tell what you're thinking, Deb, I'm not a mind reader. Right after you killed El Sapo, you told me that you can't help the way you feel about me." 

She groaned and covered her eyes with her hand. "Jesus, stop saying that." She lowered her voice. "And keep your voice down. She's right in there."

"You think that a woman who conspired with Harry to turn me into a serial killer would have a problem with a brother and sister in love with each other. Really??" For emphasis, I punched the wall next to her elbow. After I did it, I felt like every lowlife asshole that Deb used to bring in on a domestic charge when she wore a uniform. 

Her lower lip started to quiver, but I couldn't stop.

"I thought we were on the right track back to each other. Once you said that you couldn't change how you felt, I understood. I really did. Deb, when you were gone, I was lost. To the rest of the world, I kept up appearances, but I missed you so much! And then when you said that, I thought I'd have another chance to get you back."

"Wait, what do you mean…" she reached out towards me and I backhanded her arm away from me. 

"And then you walk into the station and you're smiling at me, like you're actually glad to see me for the first time in a goddamn half a year and when we go to talk you grab the wheel and try to drown us??"

"But you just said we not me…" The tears were welling in her eyes, but I still couldn't stop badgering her. I stepped closer again and I could feel her breath coming in short bursts as she breathed through her mouth. 

"To top it off, you suddenly decide that what, you can't live without me, and pull me out of the car? What kind of sense does that make, Deb? What's it going to be? Do you still want me in your life?" I stopped and took a breath, because I knew that she would either hit me or bolt out of the room with what I was going to say. I'm not sure which I wished for. 

"Because I know my choice. And I choose you. I love you, Deb. I can't do it alone." 

She really started to cry now and that made even less sense. She covered her face and bent over a little bit. I leaned towards her and closed the gap and she sobbed into my shoulder. She started to have a hard time catching her breath through her tears and I hugged her closer to me, one arm around her back, the other at the back of her head, underneath her hair. I felt her hands come to rest on the sides of my waist. I whispered into her hair. "I'm sorry, Deb, for all of it. This is not what I ever wanted for you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. " I massaged the back of her skull and neck to try to calm her down. 

She gasped and it sounded different than her crying, but her sobbing started to abate. Her hands gripped me a little tighter. "You haven't done that to me in years, Dex, since we were kids." Her voice sounded throaty and thick. "I used to love that when I was upset." She moaned into my chest when I hit a particularly tight knot. 

She pulled back and looked at me, but I continued to knead her stiff muscles. Her hazel eyes looked a little more green because she'd been crying. She was so close to me, just inches away. 

"Fuck, I can't do it without you either. I know it now. I'll always chose you, Dex." She raised her hands to my chest. "You never said you didn't feel the same, I just assumed it. Did you mean what you just said? That we were in love with each other, not just me?"

I leaned in closer to her, pressing our foreheads together. "Yes." I moved just a bit to one side and slowly moved in to kiss her, giving her enough time to push me away. I kept my eyes open as I kissed her at the corners of her mouth, small kisses, wanting her to respond. Her skin was salty from her tears. She kept her eyes open as I kissed her, as if she didn't trust what was happening. I pulled back to look at her full on.

She murmured low. "Fuck", and took my face in her hands. Her thumbs caressed my cheeks and jawbone. She pressed her lips to mine and kissed me. Her lips were soft and wet and eager. I pulled her flush against me, then pushed her back against the wall to press myself as close to her as possible as I deepened the kiss. I couldn't help myself as I reached down and pulled her leg up and placed it around my hip. She anchored me against her with her thigh and kept me close. I settled between her legs and she groaned as I pressed myself against her.

"Oh Fuck" she said with more meaning and volume. 

Even as I was pushing her up against the wall rather roughly, I returned to her mouth gently. I teased her lips with my own, never truly kissing her. Very gently, I licked across her bottom lip, baiting her to kiss me back. Her leg tightened around my hip right before she took the bait with vigor. Her lips opened to me and kissed me soundly, her tongue slipped into my mouth and met mine. She moaned into my mouth and stood back on two legs. With the pressure of her hands against my back she let me know that she wanted to move. I let her lead me and she moved us backwards towards the couch until my knees hit the cushions and I fell back. 

She stood in front of me, looking down at me, her hair framing her face. I held up both my hands, palms to her and she mirrored her own against them and we intertwined our fingers. I steadied her as she came close to me and the couch cushion dipped when she placed her knee next to my leg. Slowly she brought her other leg across me and straddled my lap. 

"Is this Ok?"

"Fuck Deb, this is more than Ok. I need this. I need you." She hovered over me, not sitting yet and her hair was long enough that it brushed against my cheek, wispy and soft, creating a space around us, enclosing us from the rest of the world. She sat down on my lap and I leaned forward to kiss her again. 

She broke away and kissed along my cheek, brushing and nuzzling her lips back and forth across my skin and down along my neck. My hands found their way to her thighs. Since we're about the same height, she was curled over me, and as I traced my hands up her thighs, over her belly and up to her breasts, she broke away from tasting me and sat up to give me better access. 

I held the weight of her breasts in my hands as she removed her denim shirt and tossed it aside. She started moaning as I rubbed my hands along her tight nubs. I couldn't take it and pushed her shirt up and over her breasts and pulled her bra cups down to expose her. Her dark nipples just needed to be in my mouth. I found that she particularly liked the soft quick flicks of my tongue because when I did that, her short nails scraped across my scalp more urgently. I wanted her so much, I couldn't help but take most of her breast into my mouth. Her breasts were so perfectly suited to my palm or my mouth. Not too much, just enough. And fucking hot. Just perfectly suited for me.

She was rocking her hips against me, making me hard and ready. She pulled my head away and reached for the buttons of my shirt, swore at me that there were too many of them, gave up, and went for my fly.

 

*************************

Jesus Fucking Christ Almighty, he was only sucking on my tits, but I swear to god it felt like his mouth was on my clit. Goddamn he was good and took even the slightest bit of direction so well, just from my fingertips on his head. A quick learner, this one. Looking at his cheeks hollow as sucked at me and his tongue flicking at me made we both want more and at the same time, I wanted more of his skin under my mouth. My lips won out as I wanted his nipple in my mouth, just to see what kind of noises he'd make, but there were too many buttons on his damn shirt. I felt all in a rush as I needed to have more of him and abandoned his shirt buttons for his fly. 

This was going all too fast and not quickly enough. It was the absolute wrong thing to do at the wrong time in the wrong place and yet at the same time it all seemed to be right and true and Fuck, his hands were on my ass, squeezing me hard. 

I opened the button to his pants and kissed him again as I grasped the metal of his fly. I pulled it down very slowly as he was already hard. I reached inside his boxers and took him in my hand, moving slowly up and down his shaft. His mouth stopped responding to my lips and he grunted when I squeezed the head of his cock between my thumb and forefinger. I looked down at the bit of pre-cum on the tip of his cock and looked back at him. It was just too fucking weird to be holding his cock in my hands and looking him in the eyes. Totally wrong and absolutely right.

He pulled my hand away from him took a slow breath and reached for my belt. His hands were quick, grabbing the metal and pulling the buckle away and through the loops. 

"Off, I want them off." he said and helped me stand back up pull them down. I kicked my shoes off, got one leg out of my pants and panties and he pulled me to him and kissed my belly. His fingers found the ridge where my obliques hit my hipbones, and he licked and kissed along that line downwards toward my center.

The coolness of the air conditioning hit my ass and brought me back again to the thought that maybe this wasn't the right time or place. Maybe there wasn't a right time or place. But then I looked down and his mouth was going lower and lower. Before I got my other leg out of my pants he yanked me back onto his lap. His pants were down a little farther, but for the most part, he was fully clothed. I fell forward on to him, straddling him again. I steadied myself on his shoulders. 

He had himself in one hand and the other went between my legs, his fingers stroking my lips, and then plunged two fingers up and into my pussy. His thumb hit my clit and he moved his fingers in and out of me spreading the wetness all along my folds. His fingers pushed along my walls inside me, first curling his fingers against my front wall, then harder against the back wall and it felt like his cock was already inside me. He brought his fingers up to his lips and spread my slickness over his lips and then slid his fingers into his mouth. He groaned as he tasted me and then leaned forward to kiss me again. I tasted myself on my lips. 

For the second time tonight, I'd seen new emotions from him. The first when he as so damn angry and he let me see it. The second was this. His face was slack with need and anticipation. His eyes were hooded, dark and a little glassy. For the third time in less than ten minutes it seemed like even though I wanted it more than fucking anything, fucking him might be wrong.

He was rubbing the head of his cock along my slit, coating it and teasing my clit. He positioned himself against my opening and I groaned with need. "Dexter, maybe we shouldn't… Ugh…. Fuck!" He had pushed up into me in one swift motion and stayed there. He moaned my name. 

He filled me perfectly. He was thick enough to make me feel deliciously split open and filled completely. In that moment, it was like he was perfectly made to fit inside me. How could this be the wrong thing...

He put his hands on my hips, waiting for me to make the next move. I held onto his shoulders, looked him in the eyes and slowly thrusted my hips forward, taking him deeper inside me. 

He took a deep breath and we started moving against each other. His arms circled around me, bringing me closer to him, his face pressed into my neck. My arm was around his back and the other on the back of the couch to give me more leverage. From the waist up, it looked like any other hug we might have had in the past, except his lips were trailing along my neck. But from the waist down, we were together in a way that we hadn't been before, moving against each other. I tilted my hips forward to bring him deeper with each thrust he made. 

Jesus, it's like he knew how to fuck me just right. Even thought I was on top, his timing was perfect and I let him lead from the bottom. He would push into me with a steady tempo building up the pressure inside me and then change it up, thrusting hard enough that I had to hold on to him and the couch. Then he followed by driving into me slower, letting me adjust before he increase his pace again.

"Deb..Deb..Deb.." he panted. I had a hard time catching my breath too; we were breathing in counterpoint to each other. 

He fit a hand between us and gathered the slickness where we were joined. He brought his hand just a bit forward and rubbed two fingers over my clit. As I rode him, each thrust he had made hit me perfectly so with his added fingers, my orgasm came on me like fucking hot lightning hitting my clit and spilling over my skin. 

Almost immediately after I came, he gripped me hard and seemed to stop breathing for a moment. His body shuddered, and then he groaned as he resumed breathing and pushed up into me harder and came deep inside me. 

We stayed just like that for a few moments. The tempo of his breath slowed and he kissed my neck again. I leaned my head away from him to give him easier access as he made his way up my neck, across my jaw, and made it home to my lips. Soft, sweet kisses, one after another, so different from the violence of the previous moments. 

"What do you want to do now?" I asked him.

"Right now? I want to kiss you." I smiled at him. It felt good to smile at him. "If this is therapy and we're being honest?"

Even though I could feel the wet remains of his lust between my legs, his cock still inside me, I wasn't sure I trusted him or wanted to really know what he was thinking. "Yes, I want honesty."

"Ok." He paused. "Right now, I want to walk out of here and tell Vogel to shove her notes and her code and her plans for me right up her ass." He smirked and took my hand and rubbed his thumb across my knuckles. "And I want to take you home with me and get you naked and make you come so hard that you can't make your legs work to walk across the room. I want to go down on you and make you scream and fuck you for three days. Then I'd like a beer. I don't want to think past spending time with you."

*************************

I knew he wouldn't hurt her or kill her. She was far too important to him. Ridiculously important to him. He was already an extremely highly functioning psychopath, and if she kept him even more stable, so be it. 

After I heard presumably his fist hitting my drywall, a thump against the wall, and her rather loud expletive, I moved to the garden outside the bay window. I didn't need to hear this. A first for patients in my home. It was highly unusual to say the least, but not entirely unexpected. Debra was so lost and desperate. Killing LaGuerta was only half her issue. The few plants and the evening's darkness would obscure me if they decided to leave. Which they did, twenty minutes later.

I saw them through the window. They exited my living room and walked through the office, hand in hand, him leading the way. He had her shirt jacket. His shirt was considerably more crumpled. She had the look of a woman that had been kissed quite a lot. Her lips were red and plump, and the area around her mouth was rosier than the rest of her pale skin. Dexter would have to learn to shave more often to keep their secret. They went out my front door and kept walking, never looking back to see me. 

Both their cars were in my line of sight and I watched Dexter guide Debra to her car. She turned back to him before she got in and Dexter came very close to her and hugged her, whispering in her ear. She dipped her head and nodded. While it was dark outside, I swear she seemed to blush. He quickly kissed her on her neck, while she looked around to see if they were seen, before turning back to his own car. She sped off and Dexter started his car. He slowly pulled ahead so that he was directly in my line of sight, and turned to look at me. 

He had that juvenile look to him once again. Juvenile and disdainful. He could have just left, but he wanted me to know that he saw me see them. He rolled his window down. The street was quiet this time of night and I was able to hear him well enough.

"She's not a pawn. She's real to me. My feelings for her are genuine. Put that in your notes."


End file.
